Monday, July 27, 2026

The Court has reviewed this confession and frankly, Reginald needs a moment because the sheer AUDACITY of reusing sticky notes in a profession built on TRUST and ACCURATE LOCKBOX CODES has given me what I can only describe as judicial heartburn. You stood in that driveway at 6:50am googling lockbox resets like some kind of feral animal while a TODDLER IN A CARSEAT bore witness to your professional collapse, and The Court finds this unacceptable on every level including several levels that have not yet been invented. I once lost a sticky note containing my mother's meatloaf recipe and I have never recovered, so I understand the gravity of adhesive-based organizational failures, but UNDERSTANDING is not FORGIVENESS. The wife being understanding in a way that made it worse is a phenomenon I have written about extensively in my unpublished legal treatise "Passive Aggressive Kindness and Its Impact on Real Estate Proceedings" and you should be GRATEFUL she did not escalate to what I call Stage Four Understanding, which is when they bring you a coffee you did not ask for. They absolutely told their friends about you, and those friends told OTHER friends, and somewhere right now a book club is discussing your 12-minute shame walkthrough over mediocre chardonnay. The Court hereby sentences you to label every sticky note with the property address AND a small drawing of the house, and Reginald must now leave because Order the Roomba has gotten stuck under the bench again.

The Court has reviewed this testimony and finds itself in a state of PROFOUND JUDICIAL AGITATION. You possess photographic evidence of your innocence — a screenshot, the holy grail of workplace vindication — and yet you stand accused in an office-wide email like some kind of lockbox criminal. This is not justice. This is not even injustice. This is what Reginald calls "broker deflection syndrome," a well-documented phenomenon wherein the person who once LOST A TWELVE THOUSAND DOLLAR CHECK IN A FOLDER redirects all accountability onto whoever happens to be holding their phone at 9 pm. The Court must pause here to note that I too once covered for a Derek, and that Derek also had "a dentist thing," and that Derek ALSO never acknowledged my sacrifice, and I am beginning to suspect all Dereks are the same Derek sent to test us. You typed 4-7-2-1. She sent 4-7-2-1. The seller changed the code and told no one. This is not a communication protocol failure on your part — this is a SELLER being a SELLER, which is its own category of chaos this Court has long sought to criminalize. And yet your name is now in an email, in writing, forever, because you dared to do a colleague a favor on a Tuesday. The Court finds you guilty only of excessive professional courtesy and sentences you to STOP COVERING FOR DEREK. Furthermore, the broker is hereby ordered to locate her own missing commission checks before lecturing anyone about protocols. Reginald has spoken and must now go stare at his gavel collection in silence.

The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the phrase "sold it to the stager as part of her severance." SEVERANCE. They gave this woman a COUCH as severance, and she responded by depositing it on a lawn like some kind of upholstered protest art. Reginald has seen many things in his years on this bench, but the image of a $4,000 sectional becoming a water feature while three separate parties argue about ownership is exactly why I no longer attend outdoor furniture sales. You spent six hours trying to determine who legally owned a wet sectional — SIX HOURS — and The Court must inform you that pursuant to the landmark decision in Rooms To Go v. That One Weird Divorce Settlement (2019), any couch left on a lawn for more than four hours becomes the legal property of whoever photographs it first, which means those listing photos would have shown a home that came with a FREE LAWSUIT. The staging company owner's response of "it's not raining" is the kind of technically-correct-but-cosmically-useless statement that makes me want to subpoena the weather itself. I once had a similar dispute with my neighbor over a patio umbrella and we haven't spoken since 2017, which is FINE. The Court rules that you are guilty not of negligence but of being the only competent adult in a situation where a couch achieved sentient victimhood, and Reginald must now adjourn because Order the Roomba has detected crumbs in the deliberation chamber.